The 7 Deadly Sins of Perdido Beach
by Permanently
Summary: Gluttony, lust, envy, wrath, greed, sloth, and pride. Which sin are you? One sin per chapter. 7-shot, obviously.
1. Gluttony

**Disclaimer: Michael Grant owns it. Need I say more?**

**So, as you could've obviously guessed, this is going to show the 7 deadly sins happening in Perdido Beach. And now, without further adieu, I present to you, gluttony!**

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Food. That was the first, and most important, thought that popped into Robert Libelle's head when Sam had stated officially that no one knew when the adults were coming back. Robert knew that Sam wanted to say, "Sorry, but we're all stuck here until we find a way out, which won't be soon." He also knew that food would be a rarity in a few months.

Robert internally thanked his mother for stocking up the pantry like the apolcolypse was coming. She was right. Very, very right.

Robert Libelle wasn't a chubby kid. He was actually moderately skinny, and his mother kept slight tabs on his natural diet, wanting to make sure he didn't follow in the footsteps of his father and have a heart attack—from clogged arteries, no doubt. But still, normal weight or not, Robert wanted to be cautious.

He raided his house. Then his neighbour's house. Then his entire street. His neighbourhood was full of elderly couples, who poofed out when the FAYZ hit.

Robert, once again, praised his mother. Not for stocking up on canned goods, but for buying a house with a large, partly inaccessible crawlspace. It was in the master bedroom in the bottom floor, behind the large, king bed with the feather duvet.

When you looked under the bed, you could only see the telltale sign of hinges against a white background. When opened, someone could squirm into it, only their torso entering the small area. Behind a peice of startch white wood, meant to be a fake wall, was his stash of canned food. Dozens, maybe even a hundred, cans of everything, tasty or not.

No one would look there, but Robert still piled suitcases under the bed to keep people from getting to his stash. He felt like a king, high up in a castle, gaurded by thousands of knights. His lifeline was safe. His fortress was impenetrable.

Until the crews came.

They searched every house, from top to bottom. They looked in every single attic and basement, not wanting to leave a trace of food. Caine apperently had the same thought as Robert.

Edilio was one of the people who 'raided' his house for supplies, ignoring Robert's voice.

"There's nothing here, man." Robert said, trying to disguise the begging tone in his voice. "I told you. I already gave all my stuff to Ralph's grocery."

Edilio was doubtful. He had faced other kids like this before. "This entire street has been wiped clean of food, Robert. Something is wrong here," Edilio said, not quite knowing what was wrong.

After fifteen minutes of searching, Edilio had given up. Well, he hadn't really given up. He just didn't want to search anymore. As hard working as he was, scrouging up one house was tiring, and Edilio had work to do. A lot of work to do. He lead his crew outside, onto the next house. Robert sighed. He was safe.

But then the hunger hit.

When the main part of the hunger phase hit, it was expected to act a bit sluggish, and to have your stomach growl almost every five minutes. Something Robert's didn't do, and people noticed. Robert tried to cut back his intake and savour his food to make it last, but he still ended up looking like a track star in the midst of homeless. He wasn't rapidly losing weight, and he wasn't sluggish all the time.

The other bad thing that happened to him since the FAYZ was his street. He had lived, more or less, two blocks away from the Town Plaza.

Kids were getting suspiscious. Robert still had a lot of food left, enough to feed an army, but he felt bad. Very, very bad.

Kids were starving, begging Sam for food. Food that he didn't have. But Robert had it. He had a lot of it. He was consumed by his selfishness, and that he knew. He wanted to give all of his food away, but then he would be known as a traitor to his own kind.

But still... Kids should've thought about this before. It was only natural to think of survival. That was his motto, anyways.

More days passed, slowly twisting into weeks. The weeks turned into a month. Finally, after a period of suffering and starvation that seemed almost double what it was, Sam has an idea.

Cabbages? Why should Robert eat nasty cabbage when he had a good stash of perfectly edible canned goods?

He declined the cabbage.

Robert entered his lifelong home, coming back from a relaxing day at the beach. Many kids went their now, to get away from the dull life at home.

The sight he saw when he entered the door wasn't what he expected. Not what he expected at all.

There was a crowd in his small home. A slight gathering, seemingly bigger than it looked because it was in the dward sized living room.

Robert knew some of these people. Anne, a girl he'd once had a massive crush on. His best friends, whom he hadn't seen in about a month. Besides their hollow faces, they only shared one common thing.

A look of hatred.

They know, Robert thought. No, no, no! How did they find out!

After a couple more seconds of mindless staring, Robert broke the silence. "Hey..."

"Cut the crap, Robert. We know you've got food somewhere," his old friend, Jim, said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Robert said, with a wave of his arm. He didn't have time to come up with a better lie.

Jim spoke again, "Yeah, Robert, you do. We're willing to keep this little thing quiet, so long as you give us all of your food."

"Jim, man, I told you already. I don't have any more food than you guys do. To say the truth, the only reason I haven't suffered from that weird look of hunger is because I was kinda chubby before the FAYZ. That's all," he said, thinking up his reason on the spot. It was a lie, and he hoped that they believed him.

Jim didn't believe him. "No Robert, you weren't. Everyone joked about how your mom kept you healthy. Remember?" Jim said, a slight taunting note in his strong voice.

Then Jim did something Robert didn't expect. He waved to the two burly boys at the back of the room. They were bullies. But... Now they were more than that. They were hiding baseball bats behind their backs. There was more, too. Nails, jagged and rusty, were unprofessionally beaten in the end of the bats.

Robert stared, wide-eyed, at the bats.

"We're serious, Robert. Give us the food, now. Or else Mike and Tyler get to have some fun," Jim said, a grim smile on his rat-like face.

Jim had changed, Robert realized. Anne even looked at him like he was a slab of beef. He hated them now. They weren't his friends. They weren't even his enemies now. They were monsters, degraded by hunger. Robert would never let them feast.

Robert, defeated, said, "You know what? Go ahead. I don't fucking care anymore," he said, using one of his few known curse words. He spread his arms out in a sign of giving up. "You're not my friends anymore."

Robert thought they would realize that he had no food. What he didn't know was that hunger made monsters out of everyone. What he also didn't know was how quick Mike was.

When Mike swung his bat out, Robert didn't even have the time to register that fact. He dropped to the ground like a dead body, which he didn;t doubt he was about to become.

Jim, unphased, said only one thing. "You should've just given us the food, Robert." A sad smile was stuck on his face.

Robert could've screamed at them that he had food. He could have saved his life. But at what cost? Slowly die by hunger? Robert knew quick was better than slowly starving out. Besides, Robert knew he had no more friends. They had all changed with hunger, and so had he.

Oh, hunger makes monsters of us all.

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**A/N: A lot of the kids in this are going to die, by the way. I've got the luscious lady lust, coming up next. (:f**


	2. Lust

**A/N: So, lady lust claims this chapter. Since I'm not one for writing romance, I tried to get it over with. It's got _implied _sex and alcohol, but nothing majorly detailed, so I didn't want to rate it M. Nonetheless, I tried to make the character as (pardon my language) slutty as possible. It is the seven _deadly_ sins, after all.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gone, or the song _'Get You Home' _by Shwayze. I only own my seven idiotic characters, two shown and five to be released.**

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There are two major points in an adolescent's life when they need to rebel. The first, at a very young age. Everything is being done for you, and you're told when to do it, how to do it. Go to bed, take a bath, sit down, stand up. When you finally want that shred of independance, you react.

Now the second is a lot less discrete. When you're a teenager, you get tired of that small speck of freedom. You want to go out until midnight, and make your own decisions. No limits. No restrictions. It's a healthy part of life. Well, except when you take it too far.

Faith Addson learned that the hard way. The very, very painful way.

* * *

Faith was coming back from a party, a boy, no doubt her newest catch, on her arm. Walking wasn't really the term for what she was doing. She was more of... strutting. Like a model, no. A drunken stumble turned flirty.

She wasn't always like this. But oh, did she ever want to be. Too much parental supervision did that to someone. She had grown up in a very—an understatement, at that—religious household. Her parents brought her to church, every single Sunday at ten o'clock sharp. They never strayed from child-watch, and since Faith was an only child, she was watched. A lot.

Her music was screened for profanities. Her books, though she was forced to read them, were also checked for anything bad. Her only connection to the real world was at school, where she could learn freely about the world. Not educational, of course, but society. How to kiss. How to grind up against a boy. How to do... other things. She learned a lot at school.

When Faith was drunk, which she most definitely was, she forgot the majority of what she'd learned. She was back to basics, relying on her girly nature to reel the boys in. Needles to say, the boys weren't interested in what she knew. They were lured in by something else, and she knew that. Not that she cared.

Faith had pretty much given up on the God she had been forced to care about, even though she'd been given a biblical name. Maybe if her parents let her have a little freewill, she would have stayed true to Him. Too bad they didn't know the meaning of letting go. Niether did Jason, the boy she was with.

He held her hips, slightly lifting her off the ground to bring their lips together in a sloppy, drunken kiss. Her Ipod earbuds were split between the two of them, the tracklist on random.

_Take me in the bathroom,_  
_take my clothes off._  
_Make love to me up against a dirty wall._  
_'Cause I can't wait to get you home._

Faith nearly gasped. It wasn't like she hadn't done it before, but the knowing sensation that it was going to happen always made her feel... wierd. Like she thought her parents were watching, ready to scold her.

No, she thought. They're gone. Gone forever! No restraints, baby!

Jason pulled away then, and when Faith started to babble her protests, he stopped her with a finger to her lips.

"Just one more request before we get down to business," he purred. He was a badboy, clad in a black leather jacket and cut up jeans.  
She adored hotties like him. Just the thought of trying to tame him, trying to get him to comb his wild side down, made her tingly. It was a girl's natural instinct to want to fix badboys, even if she was a badgirl herself. It always failed in the end, but it was still a hellova lot of fun to try.

"What, baby?" she murmured. She would do anything he asked of her.

"Do the trick," he said with a crooked drunk smile.

That request was odd, but she'd had it before. The 'trick' was actually her power. A gift from the god who she had abandoned.

"Mmm, alright. Whatever you want," she replied, with equally slurred words.

She reached her hand out, and closed her eyes in slight concentration. When the fingertips made contact with his faded band-tee under the leather jacket, it met little resistance. Her hand melded into his chest, earning a drunk giggle from Jason.

She didn't get why people liked it so much. People said that it tickled a bit, but that was all. She couldn't grab onto anything. It was as if her arm turned invisible inside of other people—and objects.

She could move her arm, and even her body, inside anything. But the strange thing was, she couldn't move anything inside. That was why non-freaks accepted her and allowed her at all their parties. She'd called it phasing.

It still sucked when she got wasted and lost control of her powers though. Once, she'd phased through two floors and had broken a leg, but the healer had fixed it in no time. The healer. Where was she? Faith didn't know, nor care. She left after the clifftop battle, never to be seen again. She could control her powers now. Well, mostly. They didn't work well when she was stressed.

He pulled her forearm, dragging out her palm slowly. "That's good," he said. He'd had enough of that sensation. "Now let's get down to why I'm here."

Faith had no objections. Only expectations.

* * *

It had been a week since she'd broken up with Jason. After a few sober moments together, she'd realized that he was only a faux badboy. He dressed like one, but everything he did wasn't rebelious at all. She wanted bad. She wanted a challenge. She wanted evil.

And then a miracle—or so she liked to think of it—happened right in front of her.

It was late at night, and Sam, Orc and Howard were all rushing past her house. She was looking out the window, on hottie-watch, when she saw them. They had something in their arms, knocked unconcious.

A human, but not just anyone. Drake. Drake Merwin. Faith had never spoken to him, but it was pretty obvious that he was what she wanted. Powerful, hot, and evil. The three main things she looked for in a guy.

He was the perfect candidate for her to change. She smiled at the thought, and the plan was formed in her head.

She had waited a week for the guarding to die down, and now only that monster Orc and his lackey Howard came in and out of the house. They went in two times a day, one in the morning, and one at night. For her plan to work, Faith would go in at noon. She'd have five to eight hours of 'fun.'

She dressed her best for the occasion. She even put in the effort to make her hair look wild, but in a sassy way. Nothing involving equipment, though. Electricity had gone out a long time ago.

She took a few deep breaths outside of her house, and then quickly, not wanting to be seen, she dashed across the lawn and into her old neighbour's. She immeadiately phased through the nearest wall, tripping into the kitchen. First, though, she had to find out where he was being hidden.

She didn't really need a hint as to where it was. After all, the giant wardrobe pushed to the bottom of the stairs gave it away.

She ran her fingers through her hair in a slight attempt to tame it before walking through the wardrobe and the wooden baracade that blocked the doorway.

When she came out, she looked around the room. She'd expected the hot badboy to be leaning up against a wall, arms folded across his chest in a manner that said, "Yeah, I look cool even when I'm all alone." But when she got in there, and looked around, she didn't see a boy up against a wall. She didn't see a boy at all.

A girl, twelve or so, was huddled up in the corner of the room, only her ratty brown hair showing. Faith was shocked. Was Drake's power to be able to turn into a girl? If so, shouldn't she be blonde? But then... she noticed something. The girl in the corner wasn't moving. No slight, rise and fall of her back as she breathed. No nothing. Just stillness.

Faith cleared her throat, trying to get the girl to look up. She thought the girl was dead until she saw the slight movement of her head.

Instantly, the girl's eyes went from slits to massive circles, almost as if she had seen a ghost. The girl, after a moment of staring, spoke.

"Get out!" she screamed, clutching her head. "The demon! The demon! He'll kill you! Hurry, leave before he—" she tried to finish, but the transformation was already happening. Her right arm was turning blood red and growing out like someone had melted it, and it was already freezing back into the shape of Drake's whip. Her untamed brown hair grew inwards, lightening to the hair that Faith had watched come into this house.

What was happening? She thought, dumbfounded. What the hell is going on? So many questions flooded her head, but she didn't have time to voice them out, let alone think them, for the long red whip was already around her neck. She didn't have time to put on her smile.

The face she had thought about for the last week was grinning at her now, but not in the way she wanted. She wanted joy, love, and longing. This was much more frightening. A hunter's smile as he shot down his prey.

"You should've listened to the girl," he said with a demon's grin, "but it's a good thing you didn't, because I need to take my anger out."

* * *

When Orc returned, he thought knew the girl was in control now. There was no screaming from Drake about how much he would kill them, no yelling about death and blood.

But still, no matter his opinion, he checked, and when he found the bloodied blonde on the ground, he instantly sent word for Sam.

She wasn't dead, no, but she was close to it. The only words he heard her whisper were the words Brittney had yelled at the clifftop battle. _"Kill me."_

Lust blinds the victim into false love, and a sense of fake control. When all that smashes to pieces, along with your body, you would do the exact same thing that Faith did. She wasn't dead, but she was begging for it.

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**A/N: This is how a Drake/OC fic should end. With the girl half dead (or fully dead). You can't tame him, fangirlies. We'd all love to tame a bad boy, but it's impossible. ):**


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